From winds revenge to summers edge,
A bird with broken wing,
From dizzy flight to autumn's night,
A tumbling groundless thing.
A paper plane upon the breeze,
an endless round that knows no cease,
Natures child in violent peace,
a random comet wandering.
From shrouds of storm to winter's calm,
a rider on a chance,
From scent of spring to twilight dim,
One caught up in the dance.
As hand in hand with chaos whirled,
As all direction leaves the world,
I watch as ceaselessly am hurled,
Through sunlight and through thundering.
From northern waste to hollow place,
Within an oreless ship,
From southern strands to burning sands,
I watch and take the trip.
If more of light than dark i see,
I think at last of courses free,
and hope to tame the roiling sea,
which ever rolls uncaring.
From eastern dawn to piercing thorn,
I'm tossed in hope of staying,
from western grace to starless space,
I'm forced forever straying.
Within a tumbling shell of steel,
I plant my strength upon the wheel,
I feel the blows that rock the kiel,
And fight the last disparing.
From midnight stars to towers of brass,
Delerious or dreaming,
from warmth of noon to silvered moon,
In truth or lies or seeming.
I look to windward for relief,
I find a scent of sweetness brief,
I catch a tumbling golden leaf,
that falls from mailstrom's harrowing.
from sunset's fire to last desire,
I look and look again,
From dawning's grey to find a way,
In patterns or in pain.
i walk the spiral's shiftless paths,
In curlicues of sturdy glass,
Where lights first rise and fall and pass,
In circle's ever narrowing.
"If your wound greaves you stil, and the memory of the darkness is heavy, you may pass into the west where all wounds and weariness are healed"
" I hear the soft note of the echoing voice
Of an old, old love, long dead -
It whispers my sorrowing heart "rejoice" -
For the last sad tear is shed -
The pain that is all but a pleasure will change
For the pleasure that's all but pain,
And never, oh never, this heart will range
From that old, old love again!"